


Help Me

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [11]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gotham's Writing Workshop, Modern AU, hormonal Claire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 20:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14701326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: When Claire doesn't feel like she's enough, Jamie reassures her.





	Help Me

                                                         [](http://www.talithaphotography.com/)

The phone in his pocket vibrated and he pulled it out to read the text from his wife.

_Are you coming home soon?_

Claire was at home “resting.” Anyone else would have actually termed it “bed rest” but she was stubborn and the staff at the hospital knew that, so they’d gotten creative. They’d had a scare a couple of weeks ago with some concerning cramping and spotting. Calling it a scare seemed mild compared to the inner turmoil he’d experienced in those moments. Yet Claire’s doctor had reassured them both and then promptly told his wife to calm down, stay off her feet, and take it easy.

Claire wasn’t handling it very well. She was anxious and frustrated about being trapped. She was anxious and frustrated about what she thought of as failing their baby. And Jamie, well, he was doing his best to remain calm, to be reassuring, and to take care of Claire when she wouldn’t take care of herself.

He’d just gone for groceries. It had taken him longer than usual but he supposed that if you were stuck at home that wee bit longer would seem like an age had passed.

He snagged the grocery bags and sent her a message.

_Aye. On my way now._

He waited for her response which was a perfunctory, “ _great_ ” and nothing more.

Great.

That probably didn’t actually mean what it said.

As he drove back to their place he thought of Claire and their baby. His girls. They’d waited years for this baby and had waited months after discovering her existence. Neither he nor his wife could wait to meet the wee one! When Claire had first begun to show, he’d been so proud. Proud of the fact that they were having a baby and proud of his magnificent wife and how she was growing their bairn.

“Sassenach?” His voice bounced off the walls of the barren hallway.

“Thank God you’re home,” came the irritated voice of his wife. “Help me James Fraser. Help me now and don’t you dare laugh.”

There was Claire. Her cheeks were flushed beneath her pale skin and she looked absolutely radiant. Slightly angry, maybe, but radiant nonetheless. She had on her bathrobe and the sash was cinched tight above the roundness of their baby. At the neckline he could see the curve of her full breasts. _A dhia_ , she was perfection. He knew she didn’t see it that way though. He knew her plea for help was for so much more than her present situation.

She’d expressed her annoyance at all those lovely aspects of herself just this morning before he’d left.

“My bra doesn’t fit.” She stated flatly.

“I dinna mind,” he quirked an eyebrow. “Ye arena going anywhere anyway. Just go wi’out.” He shrugged. Shrugging had probably been a mistake.

She quickly crossed her arms over herself. “I _can’t_ go without!” she scowled. “All the…” she paused, “Joggling…”

He wanted to laugh. She honestly had no clue how gorgeous she was, but he knew that right now she didn’t feel beautiful, she didn’t feel successful, and she didn’t feel worthy.

“My pants don’t fit either,” she pouted.

“Ye do ken that ye are nearly seven months pregnant wi’ our bairn, aye?” he inquired.

She’d sighed in resignation and allowed herself to be led to the living room where she was going to spend her morning with a cup of tea and a good book.

Now, back from the store, he found her in the living room still, her form being nearly swallowed by the man-eating sofa that had come from his bachelor pad to their place. The springs were broken and the middle sagged something terrible, but until they had a nicer home, they didn’t want to invest in spendy furniture for just the two of them. The piece of furniture was difficult enough to maneuver under ordinary circumstances, never mind if someone was pregnant.

“I need a hand getting up,” she scowled and he tenderly reached out to her.

A look of shame crossed her face and continued in a softer tone. “I’m sorry. I’m just all over the place and taking it out on you. You’re working so hard to take care of things and make sure our home is ready and I’m here just sitting, doing nothing, and taking up your attention as well.”

“Och Claire,” he sighed, his heart broken for his wife who felt that she was a burden when she was anything but. “Come here and let me tell ye how I love ye. ‘Tis like our song, aye?”

He pulled her gently to him and began to sway, humming tunelessly, completely tone-deaf, then beginning to recite the words they loved so much.

_All of my life_

_I have dreamed_

_That somehow love would find me_

_Now I can’t believe you’re standing here_

_If beauty is all in the eye_

_Of the beholder than I_

_Wish you could see_

_The love for you that lives in me_

“I ken ye dinna believe me, but I find ye to be the most gorgeous woman I’ve laid eyes on, Sorcha. And I ken that ye think my carin’ for ye right now is a burden and a waste of my time that could be spent doin’ somethin else, but I canna imagine a greater privilege than being allowed to care for the one I love.”

She sniffled and buried her head in his chest as much as the baby between them would allow.

He continued to recite the words rhythmically, gently soothing her anxious spirit. Reassuring her. Being present. Taking in the joy of being in her presence.

_I know there are days_

_When you feel_

_So much less than ideal_

_Wondering what I see in you_

_It’s all of the light and the grace_

_Your belief in me drives me to say_

_That I promise you_

_A faithful love, forever true_

“I’m a mess,” her voice quivered. “I’m sorry for that, but I _really_ do know how you feel. I feel so helpless but at the same time, I don’t doubt us Jamie.”

_And you would know you have my heart_

_If you could see, what I see_

_That a treasure’s what you are_

_If you could see what I see_

_Created to be_

_The only one for me_

_If you could see, what I see_

 

[If You Could See What I See](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzE5xQKh-Yc) is by Geoff Moore and I grew up listening to it because my dad would sing it to my mom. 


End file.
